


The Dragon King

by GalacticDefender4679



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticDefender4679/pseuds/GalacticDefender4679
Summary: King Arthur Pendragon; wise and just warrior-ruler of ancient Britain, struck down by a traitor. A wonderful legend, but a legend nonetheless. But what if... it isn't just a legend?





	1. Siege

In an age of magic now only told of in legend, the realm of Britannia stood divided; lords and knights across the land wished only to conquer the nation for themselves. But only one man held a true claim to the unity of the kingdom; the man who hefted the mystic Kingsword Excalibur from its granite home in the woods of Camelot, and whoever could do so was the child of Uther, the last High-King.

This new king came one day when a child claimed the sword and raised it above his head. His name was Arthur Pendragon; prophesied Once and Future King. Thus began the Age of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table… but it could not last. Betrayed not only by his bride Queen Guinevere, but by his greatest knight Sir Lancelot, Arthur led his remaining Knights into a war against his old best friend… leaving the throne abandoned.

When Arthur returned, he found his home kingdom of Camelot under siege by his nephew Mordred, another Traitor to the Round Table who had even managed to slay the great red Dragon of Camelot. Ever since the siege began, the Knights of the Round had been backed against a wall by Mordred’s forces. It is here where we begin.

Arthur himself stood strong on his bed-chamber’s balcony, his bright blonde hair fluttering in the wind and his gleaming blue eyes scanning his once-great kingdom. He knew there was no chance for his kingdom to survive this onslaught, as Mordred knew all the kingdom’s weaknesses and had burned his way across half of Britannia to claim what he believed was rightfully his.

Arthur sighed as he scratched his blonde beard. He knew exactly who was with him in his chambers at that moment, and he knew he would need their guidance. “Well Merlin, if you’ve any last-minute words of wisdom, now would certainly be a good time.”

From the shadows of his chamber to the balcony with his king stepped the old sorcerer himself, Merlin, an ancient wizard with long white hair and wise gray eyes who had trained Arthur by his hand to take his place as king after Uther died. “I fear, My King, that there is no way we may save Camelot. At least… not alone.”

Arthur seemed rationally confused. “Who can we summon? Lancelot’s men from Gaul are strong; I agree, but we cannot wait for more of them to come from across the channel. King Lot’s armies of Lothian are four-days ride away at best and King Mark of Cornwall is dealing with an invasion of his own from those blasted Celts.”

“We need not summon anyone ourselves, Arthur. Those who will aid us will come of their own volition in due time.” Merlin’s words confused the king even more, but all became clearer as the wizard began whispering to his king.

But what Arthur heard was terrifying. “Have you gone mad, Merlin?!”

“Please My Lord, I have not finished.” Arthur nearly left before this, but Merlin’s magic easily stopped him.

Once he finished what he had begun saying before, Arthur’s fear was replaced with amazement. “Are you sure of this, old friend?”

“Have I ever been wrong before, my king?” Merlin was right; his predictions had never led Arthur afoul before now, and the king doubted he was going to start now.

Arthur thought for a moment but quickly came to a consensus. “Has Nimue been informed of this?” Merlin’s nod was all the assurance Arthur needed. “Very well. Summon the Knights and the Ladies of the Court to the throne room; I wish to inform them of this myself. And have the _Prydwen_ made ready to set sail.”

“Of course, my king. And shall I send for a squire to bring you your armor?”

Arthur smiled. “No need, old friend.” He opened an old wardrobe from his father’s age to show that the great king was never far from his armor.

Merlin chuckled, placing a hand on his godson’s shoulder. “I taught you well, my king.” With that, he left for his study. There, he called magic into his scrying stone and allowed all the most trusted of Arthur’s knights and the Ladies of the Court of Camelot to hear him. “Lords and Ladies of the Court of Camelot, the king summons you at once to the throne room of the castle.”

Among those who heard the wizard’s words was Gawain, son of King Lot of Logres; a proud and chaste young knight with auburn hair and amber eyes who bore upon his crimson shield, a pentangle in gold. Turning to his lieutenant in the hordes of Camelot’s armies, he seemed distressed. “The king has requested my presence. Can you hold the line here until my return?”

“Until my last breath, Sir Gawain.” That was all the knight needed to hear before he saddled up his horse and rode for the castle, soon meeting his brothers-in-arms along the way up the castle-stairs.

The throne-room doors in the high tower were thrown open and the knights found the king in full armor upon his throne with his wizard at his side, both flanked by the ladies of the court. “What have you to report, my knights?”

First to give his report was Arthur’s foster brother Sir Kay; a broad man with hair of black and eyes of emerald with two silver keys upon his azure shield. “Mordred’s forces have laid waste to the Keep of the Round Table and have nearly broken the western gate. But neither was done by conventional means. I suspect black magicks being used against Camelot.”

“Well, don’t look at me; I saw which way the wind was blowing long before all this.” Lady Morgana was right; the black-haired sorceress had abandoned her ways of treason against the crown long before Mordred ever declared war against Camelot.

“Then it must be Viviane.” Merlin theorized. “I never believed she would betray Britannia to Mordred, but in the end, I suppose all she ever cared about was power.”

“I can confirm that, my liege.” Arthur was still surprised to see Sir Lancelot here; brown hair flowing and blue eyes shining, greatly contrasting the white and red stripes on his shield. “I have seen Viviane with my own eyes. She hammers at the gate with her magic, intent to bring it down. But she is not alone; Mordred has allied himself with the Black Knight as well.”

Arthur growled in anger; the Black Knight was once a Knight of the Round as well but had abandoned his Oath of Chivalry and Loyalty just after Lancelot ran with the queen. Not much else was known about the Black Knight, not even his name or what he looked like as he never removed his armor and the seal on his shield was unfamiliar. “Well then Merlin, it appears we have little time left. We might as well tell them now.”

“Tell us what?” Lancelot wasn’t the only one to return to Camelot after news of the siege reached Gaul: he had also brought with him Queen Guinevere; a magnificent maiden with hazel eyes and bright gold hair, believed by many to be the loveliest maiden in the realm. But her face showed only concern here.

Arthur took a deep breath before he stood. “I do not lie to you, my friends. Merlin and I fear that our moment of defeat is nearly upon us.” It was certainly a blow to the morale of the Court to hear their king speak like this, especially for Guinevere. “However, all is not lost. Merlin has informed me that there is one thing we can do to right this wrong, and eventually restore the proud legacy we have worked so hard to build.”

All eyes turned to Merlin as he stepped forward. “The Knights must ensure the women of the Court are safe as they flee to the Isle of Avalon. And with them, they must take Excalibur; scabbard and all.”

The court was shocked as they heard this, and the Knights all stepped forward and yelled to voice their hatred of this plan, but it was Guinevere who Arthur listened to. “Arthur please, you cannot ask me to take your blade and flee! Without the power of its scabbard, you leave yourself mortal before Mordred! Please, do not ask me to do this.”

Arthur raised a gauntleted hand to his queen’s cheek and brushed away a tear. “I did not wish to ask this of you, my queen. But we have no other choice.”

Lancelot stepped forward, an angered expression on his face. “With all due respect, my lord, I must agree with Guinevere. You cannot ask the Knights of the Round Table to turn their backs on Camelot and allow all we have built to be torn apart by that _traitor_.”

“I must agree with Lancelot, my lord.” Gawain stood as well. “It would be a stain upon our honor to leave Camelot in its darkest hour.”

“Not to mention the poor image it would send to the ladies.” Leave it to Sir Agravaine to worry about something so simple; the amber-eyed black-haired knight always fancied himself a ladies man and polished his green-banded two-headed eagle shield constantly in hopes to garner more attention from maidens.

“Silence Agravaine!” Sir Percival bashed a gauntleted hand against his fellow’s head. The blonde knight rolled his dark brown eyes at his fellow, raising his blue shield speckled with gold crosses.

“Arthur, I have raised you since you were a child and allowed Merlin to teach you all he knew.” Sir Ector was, of course, right; the aged knight with dulling green eyes had raised the king since he was a child alongside his son Kay, and gladly carried a gray and red shield with a blue sun upon it after his foster-child took to the throne. “And ever since, we have faced countless threats all far worse than Mordred.” All others muttered in agreement. “And now, after years of defending the realm, years of having Excalibur at your side, you simply wish for us to take it and leave you here alone? You stand no chance without it.”

All the rest of the court agreed and begged for the king to rethink his decision but finally, it became too much. “ **Enough!** ” he bellowed, sending silence throughout the chamber. Arthur took a deep breath to compose and sat back upon his throne. “I understand and appreciate your concerns, but my decision stands.” He carefully removed the sword from his belt and stood, unsheathing it one last time to smile at its bright blade. Arthur knew his father would not be able to hear him, but he placed his forehead to the flat of the blade regardless and breathlessly, he muttered: “Forgive me, Father.” With that, he sheathed his blade and handed it down to his queen. “Now, you must away to Avalon. Nimue, Lady of the Lake, has been informed of this and has assured me all will be safe at Avalon’s shores.”

“But why Your Majesty? Why do you wish us to go to Avalon?” Lady Elaine was fair to ask as Arthur well knew; the golden-haired brown-eyed Lady of Corbenic who had foretold of her son Sir Galahad’s claiming the Holy Grail had long been a friend of Arthur’s court, so she deserved the answers she asked for.

“Because of my latest vision, last night.” Merlin stepped forward, surprising the court. “In it, I saw that one day, far in the future, all in this chamber will be reincarnated. And these reincarnations will find their way back to Camelot to aid us in our darkest hour.”

This answer perplexed the rest of the court, but they knew better than to question any of Merlin’s visions. Still, it appeared as though the wizard would explain further but before he could, a loud blast echoed from the wall and somehow a knight in Saracen armor flew through the window, his shield covered in black and white checkers. Lancelot recognized him almost immediately. “Palamedes!”

Morgana quickly joined him in aiding the Saracen knight while Sir Tristan; a younger knight with red hair and gold eyes in archer’s armor with a green shield emblazoned with a gold lion rampant, ran to the window. And what he saw terrified him. “Mordred’s forces have broken through the gates! If we’re going to leave, the time is now!”

Merlin quickly took charge. “Then you must leave immediately. The _Prydwen_ is ready at the river. Get to it as quickly as you can and cast off.” The knights quickly followed the wizard’s orders and began ushering the ladies of the court away until only Guinevere remained with the knights, trembling with Excalibur in her hand.

Arthur hugged her gently to ease her fear. “Do not worry about me, my queen. I know exactly what I’m doing.” He kissed her deeply, which she gladly returned before they separated and smiled at each other.

Lancelot placed his hand on the queen’s shoulder with a stern expression. “My lady, we must leave. Now.” Guinevere nodded and quickly went ahead, led toward the _Prydwen_ ’s dock by Sir Gawain carrying Palamedes over his shoulder.

Lancelot nearly followed the queen but Arthur stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, making the knight look back at his king. “Tell me truly, Lancelot; how deeply do you care for Guinevere?”

Lancelot stood strong and nodded. “I would give my life to ensure no harm came to her. I swear this to you by my blood, my lord.”

Arthur smiled and pulled his knight into a hug, which he gladly returned. “Then I give you both my blessing and wish you safe travels, my friend.” Arthur quickly broke the hug and strode away. “Now you must be off. Or she will leave without you.”

Lancelot gave a cocky smirk as he strode to the stairs. “Not likely.” Once all of them were gone, Arthur looked to his wizard Merlin with a smile.

“Will you join me in my final battle, old friend?” he asked.

Merlin glared out beyond the horizon to see a shape approaching from the air that could only be Viviane. “I fear not, my king. I have duties elsewhere.” He took to the air as well and shot out of the castle, clearly tackling Viviane to the ground outside.

“Good luck. All of you.” Arthur looked out of the castle toward the river to see his old ship _Prydwen_ sailing away toward the sea. The ship would reach Avalon in eight days, but Arthur was still worried something might happen along the way.

He didn’t have much time to think about this, however, as the loud tromps of armored boots and the fluttering of a cape echoed through the hallway outside. Quickly Arthur raised his red shield emblazoned with the Three Crowns of Camelot and drew a sword from a weapons rack nearby and swung just in time to block a sword aimed at his head. There before him was a knight in sheer black armor and a black coat over his chestplate lined with crimson. His face was covered by his helmet, showing only his bright green eyes through the visor. “Hello, old friend.” Arthur taunted. “How long has it been, six months since you abandoned the Round Table?”

The Black Knight said nothing, simply staring at the king. Arthur took the chance and parried his sword away before he began slashing away, only for the knight to block every attempted slash with his blade or shield, emblazoned with a red-and-gold druid symbol upon a sheer black background. And as they dueled, they had no idea, someone else was watching them in the shadows wearing equally black armor.

Outside the walls of the kingdom, Merlin blasted spell after spell at his old student Viviane; a ginger-haired maid with green eyes who parried every spell and countered with spells of her own, until they blasted the land around them to a crisp. “I must admit I am impressed Viviane. Your magic has grown since our lessons.”

“All self-taught, old man.” the witch smirked. “I may have learned from you, but you are nothing more than an insect against my magical prowess. For instance…” A massive fireball launched from her hands and blasted Merlin to the ground, stunned.

“Ugh. That was hellfire.” he realized. “You’ve dabbled in devil magic, I see. A dangerous gamble on your part, my student.”

“That’s the funny thing about gambles, old man.” Viviane smiled. “They have a habit of working out well.” And indeed, it appeared one of her gambles was working out now.

Merlin tried to take a step only to find his feet stuck to the ground by roots, which were slowly climbing up his body. “Sealing me in a tree? Clever. But you should know one thing about me by now, Viviane.”

“Oh really? And what’s that?” the witch smirked as she walked away, her mystic roots climbing up to Merlin’s torso.

“I always have a contingency plan.” And it quickly panned out; Viviane soon found her feet stopping cold. Looking, she saw her feet were turning to stone and the curse was climbing up to the rest of her body.

“Wh-What is this magic?!” she asked in terror, falling to her knees.

“My contingency plan.” That was the last thing Merlin said as the roots spread to his face, turning the great sorcerer into a lone oak tree and sealing away his magic. Viviane tried to get back to the castle as fast as she could to warn her master, but the stone curse spread up her body and reduced her to nothing more than a simple granite statue in the glen.

At the castle, Arthur was losing his ground against the Black Knight. Without Excalibur, Arthur was barely the soldier he had come to make himself known as. Even when he thought he saw an opening, he was wrong; the Black Knight managed to slip his sword past the king’s shield and stab him right in the waist, making the king scream out in pain.

Even from out on the _Prydwen_ , Guinevere and the others heard the scream of her king and were all terrified. “Arthur!” the queen yelled out. “Turn this ship about! We have to help him!”

“We have our orders, my queen,” Gawain said grimly.

“I don’t care!” Guinevere yelled, making for the tiller herself. “I will not allow my king to die!”

She nearly grabbed the tiller until Lancelot stopped her by gripping her wrist. “There is nothing we can do to help him, my love. All we can do now is carry out our king’s final orders. Percival, full sail!”

“Gladly!” The sails quickly unfurled all the way and the ship sailed down the river to Avalon.

Guinevere knew her husband’s knights were right, but even so; her husband had left her with only a single sword and the word of a prophesy to remember him by. She sobbed as she looked back at Camelot; the kingdom she had called home for so many years… the kingdom of the man she loved.

Arthur slid down the wall, clutching to his wound with both hands as the Black Knight wordlessly pulled his sword out and let the king bleed out on the ground, his sword and shield to his sides. “So Black Knight, this is how it ends, is it?” The Black knight still said nothing, but Arthur just chuckled. “Really? Nothing? Heh-heh. Mordred would’ve had something to say if I had fallen by his blade. Perhaps a long-winded speech about how he’s earned his throne, a single stupid sentence to mock my defeat. Hell, maybe even just a simple, old-fashioned gloat.” Still, the Black Knight said nothing. “I must be honest, I believed that were I ever to die defending my realm, my death would be dealt by _his_ hands, not yours. I know nothing of you, not even your name.” The Black Knight simply scowled down at him, as Arthur returned to seriousness. “If this _is_ to be my last moment, then grant a dying king one last request, old friend. Take off your helmet; let me see your face.”

Slowly, the Black Knight sheathed his sword and reached for his helmet. With an audible clank, it came free from his chest-piece and it smoothly fell to the ground from the knight’s hands. Arthur’s eyes widened as he saw his opponent’s face; from all he and his fellow knights had heard as to why the Black Knight never removed his helmet, Arthur believed he was hideous; scarred from countless battles before the knight joined the Round Table.

But this was false; the Black Knight was devilishly handsome, roughly Arthur’s age with black hair and green eyes that didn’t look so intimidating without the helmet, along with only one scar across his left eye and down to his beard. “Forgive me, My Lord, I did not intend for this to happen.” Arthur was admittedly surprised; the armor had muffled the knight’s voice to the point of sounding much more terrifying, and Arthur assumed he naturally sounded like that. But instead, he was met with a kind voice begging forgiveness. “Mordred has no honor; I only wish I had realized so sooner and I remained by your side.”

Arthur was surprised to see not deception, nor theatricality, nor even pride in the Black Knight’s eyes, but genuine remorse. Still, the king smiled. “If this is how you truly feel, my friend, then I have only one last request. Tell me your name before you grant me a swift and honorable death.”

The Black Knight seemed terrified by this thought but acquiesced to the first part. “Breunor.”

Arthur chuckled a bit, coughing up some blood. “Dinadan’s brother; I should’ve known.” Sir Dinadan had fallen by Lancelot’s hand when he escaped with Guinevere so long ago, and it appeared at the time that the Black Knight was the most torn up about it. Now he knew why.

“Sire, I can easily get you out of here. Mordred will never know-”

Arthur shook his head as he coughed more blood. “It’s too late. My wound is mortal. Even if I _did_ flee Camelot before Mordred found me, I would be dead before I got too far. All I ask for now is a swift death.”

Breunor knew Arthur was right; he would never last long. And neither would Britannia under Mordred’s rule; all he wanted was to hold the power of Excalibur, making him only a false king. He stood easily and placed his shield on the ground, drawing his sword and pointing it at Arthur’s heart in a downward thrust. “For whatever it may be worth, My King, I am truly sorry.”

Arthur smiled. “All is forgiven, Sir Breunor the Black. You are honorable, and that is all I ask of my knights.”

Breunor smiled as he raised his sword for the last strike. “Long live the King!” That was all he could say before a sword stabbed straight through his torso, splattering blood on his armor and sending his sword clattering to the ground in front of Arthur.

“NO!” Arthur yelled through the pain. He recognized the devious black-haired green-eyed face over Breunor’s shoulder anywhere: Mordred.

“I could not have said it better myself.” With one kick, Breunor was thrown from the blade of Mordred’s sword out the window, straight to the river below. He smirked at the wounded king below him as he wiped his sword clean with a cloth, wearing the crown he had just stolen from the throne-room during Arthur’s duel. “Hello, Uncle.”

Arthur scowled up at Mordred in response to this. “So this is it, eh?” He was being rhetorical of course, but he still smiled as he said it. “You’re just going to stand there and watch as I bleed out like a stuck pig?”

“Mm, tempting as that sounds, it would cause me _intense_ physical pain if I were to pass up such a perfect opportunity as this.” Mordred smiled, picking up the sword Arthur used against Breunor.

“Oh really? And what opportunity is that?” Arthur asked.

Mordred laughed cruelly. “Why, to kill you with the very sword with which you swore to protect this pathetic kingdom, of course.” he smiled, spinning the sword in his hand. “And now, with Excalibur in my hand, I shall not only rule Britannia but all of-” He stopped short as he looked at the sword in his hand and realized something in terror. “This- This is not Excalibur!”

Arthur gave a weak chuckle, hiding something behind his right leg. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

Mordred growled as he dropped the sword and grabbed Arthur roughly by his hauberk. “What did you do with it?!!!”

Arthur was wheezing in pain at this point but still chuckled. “You’re far too late, Mordred. Excalibur is long gone. You’ll never find it now.”

Unfortunately, the false king’s scowl shifted back to an evil smirk. “Is that so? Let me guess; you had the court take it to Avalon, didn’t you?” Arthur’s smile vanished, replaced with fear, and Mordred gave a cruel laugh. “I knew it.” He simply let go of Arthur, allowing him to place his weight on the windowsill as Mordred drew his sword. “It’s a long ride, but I can make it. And I promise you, Uncle, that once that ride is done, Excalibur will be mine. And with its power, I will rule not only Britannia but the entire world. Of course, I may as well kill you now before I leave.” Once Mordred turned back to the king, he felt a strong stabbing through his torso as his chestplate splintered. His eyes fell to his chest and he saw that Arthur had grabbed up Breunor’s sword when he wasn’t looking, as its hilt was now protruding from his chest.

“If you think for even one minute, that I will allow you to hunt down my court, my knights, and my queen, just so you may have power, you could not be more mistaken,” Arthur growled.

Mordred just growled as he dropped his sword and weakly reached up to Arthur’s head. “No!” he groaned.

“Alright then, Mordred. Let’s finish this war the way we started it.” Arthur’s left arm swiftly grasped Mordred’s shoulder in a tight grip as the king smirked. “Together!” Then with the last of his strength, the great Once and Future King launched himself and Mordred out the same window Sir Breunor had fallen from toward the river.

“NOOO!!!” Arthur released his grip on Mordred the second they went out the window, knowing their deaths would come soon enough.

He tuned out his opponent’s screams just enough as he closed his eyes, still focused on the rushing water. “Thus begins the Age of the New Round Table.” He only prayed Merlin’s prophesies had not led everyone astray for once.


	2. Knightmares

“GAH!” A cold sweat shot over the young man’s forehead as he bolted upright in his bed. It was the same nightmare again. His blue eyes were trembling in their sockets and his dirty-blonde hair was matted with sweat.

He was panting in fear and rubbing the sweat from his brow when he heard a soft knock on the door. “Alex? Are you okay?” Alex Pierce knew that voice anywhere, his girlfriend Polly Silver was in the doorway, her hazel eyes filled with concern and her curly blonde hair shining as it fell over her shoulders in her bright blue nightgown.

Alex always believed he was the luckiest man at Abraham High School to be dating Polly; not only was she among the kindest of the female student body, but her appearance (including her figure) meant she had dozens of other suitors at school.

Though she wasn’t the only one in that doorway; his parents Payne and Irene were there as well, along with his younger twin sisters Annie and Jenny, who had invited Polly over for a sleepover which explained why she was over so late.

All five gathered around Alex’s bed in great concern. “Are you alright, son? We heard you screaming.”

“I’m- I’m fine Dad; just had a bad dream is all.” Alex shrugged it off, but he had a bad feeling it was something far more.

His sisters clearly thought the same thing, as they climbed onto the bed. “Are you sure, Al?” Annie was always so caring.

“We’ve never heard you scream like that before.” Though to be honest, she and Jenny were practically clones, so he could say that for both of them.

“I promise, it was just a weird nightmare.” Alex didn’t like all this attention over something so simple. “Sorry I woke you all up. I’ll tell you if something worse happens.”

“Alright, Alex. Good night.” Irene gave Alex a small kiss on her forehead, which embarrassed him.

“Mom…!” he groaned, hearing the girls laugh.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Payne ordered, turning to the twins. “Now you two get to sleep; you’ve got school tomorrow, remember?”

The twins noticeably deflated at this reminder. “Yes, Daddy.” Soon enough, Alex was left alone in his room to try and get back to sleep.

He had nearly managed it when he heard his door open again. His vision was blurry with how drowsy he was, but he could still tell who it was. “Polly? What’re you doing back?”

Polly just quietly closed the door and walked to his bed, sitting down next to him. “We’ve been dating for almost three months now, Alex. You think I can’t tell when you’re hiding something?” It looked like Alex didn’t want to talk about this as he just did his best to look away, but Polly just cupped his face with her hand and forced him to look back at her. “You’ve been having these nightmares four days in a row, Alex. And tonight might’ve been the worst to date. Are you really okay?”

Alex knew she was right; he’d been having these sorts of nightmares all week, but he couldn’t begin to explain them. “I don’t know. I don’t understand them any more than anyone else.” He could tell Polly was getting worried, so he just sat up and cupped her face with his hand. “But I’ll be fine. I promise.” Polly still seemed worried, so Alex just brought his face to hers and held her in a kiss, which she gladly welcomed by wrapping her arms around his neck. After a minute, they broke the kiss for air and both just smiled at each other… before Alex chuckled proudly. “I never get tired of that.”

Polly just giggled as Alex laid back down in his bed with a smile… but then things got both frightening and confusing when she pulled up his covers and slipped into the bed next to him. “Whoa-whoa-whoa Polly, what’re you doing? You know that if our parents catch us like this, they’ll kill us both, right?”

Polly just laughed as she laid a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat calm down through his skin. “Will you relax? We’re both 17; I think we can be mature enough not to do anything stupid.” Alex looked ready to say something as a counterpoint, but Polly just shut him up with a quick peck on his lips before she rested her head on his chest, hearing his calm heartbeat and letting hers match its rhythm as she closed her eyes. “Good night Alex.”

Alex tried to say something but he knew it was too late: Polly was already fast asleep on his chest. So instead, he just smiled as he ran his hand through her soft golden hair, making her give a happy moan as she slept. Alex leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling at how good he had it. “Good night Polly.” What happened next, nobody heard, but Alex said one more thing before he fell asleep, but it wasn’t in his own voice… it was in one much more mature. “ _Sleep well… Guinevere._ ”


End file.
